


Meaning

by SpicyCheese



Series: Pieces [2]
Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fate, Gen, Romance?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 20:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1578335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyCheese/pseuds/SpicyCheese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dyson picks up the broken pieces after the battle- pieces including Tamsin- and learns that the battle is not over. Not by a long shot. </p><p>Spoilers for 4x13... and everything else as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meaning

**Author's Note:**

> So, originally, I wrote my story "Nothing" as a one-shot, from Tamsin's prespective. Then I started thinking about the whole story line and how interesting it would be to see it from other characters' prespectives. So I have a few differnt stories that I'm throwing together as a "series". They can be read together, or alone. This is the second one of that series. Hope you like it :)

_Bo_. He holds her back on the battlefield from reaching Kenzi. He holds her as she shakes with grief and keeps holding her until they make it back to the Dal and Trick’s den. He makes her tea, and sits with her until the tears dry and the tea grows cold. She says she needs to rest. He listens. He watches as she lays down, murmuring the name over and over. _Kenzi_.

 _Kenzi_.

Dyson feels weak as he walks from the Dal, the wave sadness that’s been licking at his heels finally washes over him. First Hale, now Kenzi. _Bad things come in 3’s, what’s next?_ He chides himself, realizing he didn’t include Rainer’s death in that count, but he’ll never apologize for that. Rainer may not have been the big bad, but he certainly wasn’t anything good.

 _Bo_. Maybe Bo was the third. The third loss. He clenches his jaw, as if bracing himself against the memory of her, in the Dal, telling him she wasn’t in love with him anymore. Part of Dyson had known this for a while of course but hearing it, _hearing it_ out loud…and seeing that look in her eyes. _Pity_. Pity like you’d pity a wounded bird or a small child. Pity like you’d pity something helpless and weak and broken. It was too much. He just gave up.

Dyson would have stayed there all night, stuck in his resignation, the image of Bo’s eyes filled with pity before him, if it hadn’t been for Tamsin.

 _Tamsin_.

Dyson wakes from his revelry like he’s been doused with cold water. There will be time to think, feel and grieve later. He still has work to do. He steadies himself, shakes it off, pushes it down and starts to run.

 

*_*_*_*_*

 

He finds Tamsin at the gates, collapsed on the ground. As he wakes her, she clings to him. She is terrified, rambling. She tells him Kenzi is gone, and not to let Bo get the Hel Shoes. She looks haunted. He knows what that’s like, to be haunted. “I’m not leaving you again,” he says and he scoops her up. He carries her in his arms.

She’s silent the whole journey back to his house. He helps her down onto the couch and as she sinks in she slowly curls her knees up to her chin, hugging them. It’s an involuntary movement and it makes Dyson think of a flower withering in the sun. He’s bothered by her eyes- fixed and staring out into the nothing. Like she’s not here. Like she’s nowhere.

“I’m going to get you some water,” he says getting up. As he fills it at the sink, he looks back at her curled body and thinks about how childlike she looks. _Even more so than when she was a child,_ he muses thinking about the wild haired Tiny-Tamsin she was after her rebirth. Even then, she embodied a certain spark, a fight, a piece of her that had been present in his old partner since they’d first met.

_‘That’s not all I did to that mouth’_

He thinks of them at the bar the other night when Tamsin found him. _Gods, was that only days ago?_ It felt like a different lifetime.

His brain had been sluggish and thick from the alcohol. _Tamsin_ , _I can’t even think straight_. At the time he didn’t understand it, didn’t understand her insistence, her desperation. _Come on_. But afterwards, as he sobered again, coming down off all the adrenaline and hormones, he finally understood.

The sex had been…feverish. It was hot and violent, both of them biting and tearing at each other, punishing each other and themselves, taking what they wanted without remorse. It was reckless and sloppy. It was _desperate_. And it was what he needed. He had needed to _feel_ something. Needed to feel _wanted_. And it worked. It had snapped him out of it, brought him back to the land of the living again, and he was grateful to her for that.

There was a moment though. As they both worked to catch their breath, coming down off that high, that he caught her eyes. It was fleeting but he saw it. It was the look he’d have seen earlier if he’d looked in a mirror. It was a look of sadness. A look of defeat and needing to feel wanted. He knew that he had needed this. Turns out she needed it too.

She began leaving almost as soon as they were done. She quipped something snarky at him, trying to make light of everything as she pulled her shirt back on but he had seen that flash in her eyes. He’d known for a long time about Tamsin. About her feelings, for Bo. But it wasn’t until that night at the bar that he really understood the scope of it. Really how deep it went and how much it consumed her. How much it was probably eating her inside. _We have more in common than I thought, partner._

Dyson shakes his head and refocuses on the present. He walks the water back to where Tamsin sits presently. He sees that same look that flashed in her eyes at the bar. Only now it seems the defeat has fully consumed her. _She looks_ … _broken_. He sits down beside her on the edge of the couch.

“Hey” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumps at his touch, startled, as if she only just realized he was there. That blank look of defeat is gone and now it’s one of despair again.

“Dyson, I-I can’t...” her voice cracks and, for the second time today, he wraps her up in his arms.

He keeps her there, as she tries to choke out what she’s trying to say. “Shhhhh,” he sooths. “Hey Partner,” his throat moves against where her head is buried into. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Even as her words are muffled into his neck, the control and conviction behind them startles him. “And it _won’t_ be.”

He’s unsure of what to say, so he just secures his embrace around her; as if he could protect her, prove her wrong.

They stayed like that for a long while. He thought about the valkyrie and their journey to this point. He never imagined that the same woman who punched him in his mouth, who poured coffee all over his desk- the cold and cynical one- would ever allow herself to be comforted by him. He knows that it’s love that’s done it. Him, Kenzi, Bo, they all love her and care about her. In this lifecycle and the last one. No matter how much she pushed them away, the love snuck in, and it changed her. Dyson knows how powerful love can be, and having lost it and gotten it back- he knows how overwhelming it can be if you haven’t had it in a while.  Over the past few years love has both killed him and brought him back- a few times now. And that’s what he needs to tell her now. He needs to let Tamsin know that he’s survived it, and that it’s worth it..

As he’s still choosing the right words, she feels her head move under his chin. He looks down as she moves a bit, tilting her head up at him

Her green eyes shine especially bright with the fresh salt. Her one hand travels up his torso, settling on his chest, grasping his shirt. She looks at him, a tortured expression in her eyes. “Dyson, I…” her face is screwed a bit, like it’s hard to get it out, “I trust you…”

“Tamsin,” he felt his voice rumble and reverberate through the thin woman clinging to him. He wondered what this was, where it was going.

“D-Dyson…” she looks at him, eyes begging, “Please…” she closes her eyes, and whispers it. “Please _, kill me_.”

“ _What_?” He was not expecting that. “Tamsin, what are you talking about?”

Her eyes open again, this time the weakness is replaced by a look of steel, of determination. “I said, ‘ _Kill me’_.” She uncurls from his arms, sitting next to him. She grabs his hand and reaches behind her with the other, retrieving her Valkyrie blade and placing it in his. She moves the blade in his hand to her throat. “Do it. Do it now.”

Dyson wakes up from his stunned silence and wrenches his hand and the blade back from her throat, throwing it down on the floor. “Tamsin, what is this?” She’s sitting in front of him, her eyes are hard but her body language still spelled out pain. “Tamsin, we all loved Kenzi…”

“UGHHHH!” Tamsin throws her hands up, grabbing him by the labels putting her face right in his. “Don’t you _GET IT_! Do you not understand the big picture here??? You _NEED_ to _KILL_ _ME_.” She lets go of him, pushing him away again. She braces her head in her hands and steadies her voice.

“Bo wants Kenzi back. Bo is going to try and get the Hel Shoes. The Hel Shoes allow the wearer to pass the mortal plane, to travel to Valhalla, but they have a will of their own, Dyson. The Hel Shoes make the wearer to go on a rampage and basically bring on the end of days. To end light and dark by killing all those that choose. Those who choose sides and those who chose who lives and dies...”

She pauses to look up at him. Satisfied that he’s following, she takes a deep breath continues. “The wearer is said to be the one to bring down Odin and Freya and all of them. That’s why those guys have been collecting warriors all these years- they’ve built their army to protect them! And they’ll call upon those warriors in Valhalla and the afterlife to fight against this person that’s going to bring the end of days- the one who wears the Hel Shoes- BO. That’s why the shoes can bring the person wearing them to Valhalla in the first place- to bring the chosen one to the battle, to end the world!” She is breathing hard again, worked up. She takes a breath to steady herself, and a weird smile crosses her face as she looks back up at him.

“So you see, Dyson, Bo can’t find the shoes. Now we know she’s the chosen one, the one who’s going to end the world if she does.”

“Tamsin,” he starts, still absorbing all the information just thrown at him. “She won’t do that. Bo’s not a killer.”

“Ooooh buddy…you are so wrong. You and both know that Bo will take out anything and anyone that stands the way between her and Kenzi. And if that means destroying heaven and Earth- which is exactly what I’m talking about by the way- she’ll do it.”

Dyson is disturbed by the idea of this, by how much sense it makes, and by the wild look in Tamsin’s eyes. She looks unhinged, like she’s losing it. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t get the shoes,” he tells her. “We’ll find another way, I won’t let her do that.”

Tamsin smiles a small smile, eyes still blazing. “You don’t have a choice. You pledged fealty to her, Dyson. You serve Queen Bo, now.” She stands, moving in front of him where he sits. “Which is why you need to kill me.”

“Tamsin, you’re not making sense.”

“I’m a _Valkyrie_ , Dyson! Not matter my allegiance, who I’m bonded to, I’m an agent of Valhalla and they’re going to call upon me to fight! To fight against _Bo_. To stop her. _To kill her_. They’re going to make me kill her- I can’t- I can’t protect her and kill her at the same time! _This- It’s never been done before_ \- I don’t know how that _works_ …” Her brow is furrowed, confused and hurt, and her voice begins to get unsteady again. Dyson can see her tremble a bit. As if she can sense his read of her weakness she straightens herself and growls out her words, as if trying to convince herself as well.

“Dyson, if you care about me at all, you’ll KILL ME!” There’s a choked out sob at the end. She gulps and looks at the ground. “Because I would rather die,” she says softly, almost to herself, “than hurt her again.”

Dyson understands now. He stands up slowly, make his voice gentle and calm. “Tamsin.”

He starts to move slowly towards her, and she crouches down quickly and up again, grabbing her discarded weapon and posing to strike if he gets too close. “Tamsin, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How are you not _getting_ this! I _need_ you to hurt me! I _need_ you to _KILL ME_!!!” She’s almost hysterical, her arm is shaking and the blade in it waivers to its point. “Kill me to _protect_ her! We have to protect her Dyson! I _have_ to protect her!”

He continues to inch forward towards Tamsin, now only a meter or so from her. She looks down, then back up at him, her face is contorted, writhing as though the thought of hurting Bo is physically hurting her.

“Dyson, I can’t- it’s Bo! It’s _BO_ , Dyson! Don’t you understand?!?  Dyson, I love- I- I- I can’t do it! I can’t! I can’t! Kill me because I CAN’T!-you don’t _understand_!-” She choked off in sobs, collapsing to the floor.

He bends down and slowly removes the blade from her hand as sobs wrack her body. For the third time today, he gathers her in his arms and places her on the couch, covering her with a blanket. He sits on the floor beside her and strokes her hair as slowly, until sobs fade and she falls asleep.

 

*_*_*_*_*

 

When he wakes the next morning, he’s still on the floor, but there’s a blanket covering him. Tamsin isn’t on the couch, and Dyson doesn’t have to stand up and look around to know she’s gone.

He stretches his legs, one of them had gone numb during the night, and pins and needles prick as the feeling comes back. Everything Tamsin told him comes trickling back as well. Bo. Hel shoe’s. End of days… and Tamsin begging him to kill her. Begging, because she couldn’t protect Bo and kill her at the same time- _it’s never been done before_ \- she said. Dyson wonders what exactly _it_ is, as he stands up. His leg is stiff but almost back to normal as he moves to the kitchen to make some coffee.

As he approaches the coffee maker, he sees a note taped to it. The note only consists of two words, the quick scrawl dashed on the page, made to look hasty and thoughtless. Dyson knows better though. He knows what it took for her to stick around long enough to write it, and how hard it is for her to even say it. He knows this is the difference between who she was when they first met, and who she has grown up to be, this time. It’s how he knows that whatever does happen, she _does_ care. It’s how he knows that love did indeed sneak its way into her heart and is there to stay.

He takes the note gingerly, handling it with care, understanding that it might be the last of something- he’s not sure exactly what- for a long time. He sticks it to the fridge, places a magnet on it, pinning it there.

He’ll read it again he knows. It’s something, a small something, and he’ll read it when things get sticky and it’ll serve as a reminder of what’s actually in her heart. Of what actually matters. He reads it one more time now, smiling, before he gets ready for his day:

 _Thanks_ , _Partner_.

 


End file.
